


Different

by DameRuth



Series: Bliss [9]
Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Explaining your relationships to your mum, Hurt/Comfort, Multi, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-31
Updated: 2020-06-01
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:48:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 10,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24477469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DameRuth/pseuds/DameRuth
Summary: Takes up immediately after "The Shared Path." Dalek invasion fleets are one thing, but families can be just as scary in their own way -- especially when Jackie Tyler is involved
Relationships: Ninth Doctor/Jack Harkness/Rose Tyler
Series: Bliss [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/14078
Comments: 4
Kudos: 31





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> [Continuing the Teaspoon uploads, originally posted 2007.06.08.]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From Satellite Five to the Powell Estates . . .

Jackie hugged her daughter in the courtyard of the Powell Estates and wept with relief. Sending her child back to what Rose had unwittingly described as certain death was the hardest thing she’d ever done — but Rose had wanted it so badly, she hadn’t been able to do otherwise.  
  
And here, beyond all hope, Rose was back, looking weak and unsteady, but apparently uninjured - -and alive.  
  
Jackie opened her watery eyes, and saw the Doctor standing just behind Rose. He looked strange, and it took her a minute to realize why: he had hair now. Rather on the longish side, in fact. In the front, it nearly fell into his eyes, and in back, it brushed the collar of his familiar leather coat.  
  
_How long did that take to grow out?_ Jackie wondered. _How long has it been for Rose since the last time they were here?_  
  
She didn’t have time to think about that further, since Rose was pulling back — sniffling away tears of her own — and pulling Jackie around to meet the strange, dark-haired man. Handsome, no doubt about that, even though he looked like death warmed over.  
  
From Mickey’s description (accurate but unflattering) when he’d met up with them in Cardiff, Jackie was unsurprised when the man was introduced as Captain Jack Harkness. He shook her hand with a charming smile, and called her “Mrs. Tyler” with unexpectedly old-fashioned manners.  
  
“Call me Jackie,” she told him, fluttering her eyelashes in spite of herself, and he nodded formally in acknowledgement before giving her a cheeky wink.  
  
“Leather trousers,” came a disgusted voice from behind Jackie. “It _would_ be leather trousers.”  
  
Jack looked past Jackie at Mickey, and his smile thinned. “Good to see you to, Mickey-boy,” he said cordially.  
  
Things might have gone downhill from there, but Rose grabbed Mickey and hugged him as hard as she’d hugged Jackie, thanking him enthusiastically for what he’d done.  
  
Both the Doctor (who'd retreated to lean against the TARDIS, out of the way of messy family-reunion hysterics) and Jack watched the little scene with narrowed eyes, Jackie noticed. Her eyes narrowed in turn. Mickey’d had some interesting things to say after his Cardiff trip — including a down-in-his-cups session where he’d speculated freely and bitterly about what might be going on in a certain blue box.  
  
At the time, Jackie’d figured it for more of Mickey’s hurt feelings over being left behind, gone a little toxic. But maybe she should keep a weather-eye out for any unusual signs and clues.  
  
Rose released Mickey, grinning at him . . . and then wavered a little, suddenly unsteady.  
  
The Doctor shoved off from the side of the TARDIS and was at her side like a shot, as Jack moved in to catch her other arm.  
  
“I’m fine!” Rose told them, a little snappishly, “just tired.” But she still allowed them to support her.  
  
Jackie’s maternal instincts kicked into gear, and she realized they were all needlessly standing out in a drafty old courtyard.  
  
“C’mon then,” she told everyone, making herding motions with her arms and hands. “Let’s not freeze out here. I’ll put the kettle on — a cuppa’s just what we all need, I think.”  
  
\--  
  
Shortly afterwards, they were all settled in the living room of Jackie’s flat, with assorted cups of tea and a plate of biscuits to pass around. The Doctor looked like he was thinking of making a break for it, and Mickey radiated a general sense of disapproval, but overall it was a cheerful gathering.  
  
To Jackie’s surprise — and Mickey’s disgust — once they got Rose safely settled in the comfiest chair, Jack had given both of them a grateful hug and a heartfelt kiss on the lips as a thank-you of his own for their help in shifting the TARDIS. Jack had been a little confused by the reactions to his thanks. Rose smiled behind her hand while the Doctor rolled his eyes. Mickey openly wiped his mouth on his shirtsleeve, and picked a seat well away from Jack.  
  
Jackie -- well, she quite liked it. Jack was certainly a handsome man, though the Doctor with some hair on his scalp did have a tendency to draw the eye more than she’d remembered.  
  
Once the tea was distributed, it was natural enough to bring the conversation around to recent events. Rose plastered on a rather too-sunny smile, and launched into what Jackie suspected was a highly edited version of what had happened after she returned to the future.  
  
Given that it was hair-raising stuff in its edited form, Jackie couldn’t help wondering what had _really_ happened — though for once, she thought she might be happier not knowing. After all, Rose was back and safe which was all that really mattered.  
  
Although now that her suspicions had been aroused, Jackie couldn’t help noticing the way Rose and her two traveling companions moved so easily around each other, handing ‘round tea and biscuits as if performing a dance, predicting each others’ motions ahead of time -- even finishing each other’s sentences as they spoke.  
  
_They’ve been traveling together for a long time, cooped up together in their blue box_ Jackie told herself. _Long enough for the Doctor to get some hair. They’re bound to know each other well by now.  
  
How well?_ her subconscious whispered back at her.  
  
Mickey clearly had his suspicions. Rather soon, he announced he was due back at work — and that _some_ one had better take care of a bloody great yellow truck currently sitting in the road.  
  
Jack and the Doctor looked covertly relieved when Mickey stood to go. Rose bit her lip, wriggled free of her comfy chair, and followed him to the door.  
  
Jack quickly filled up the empty conversational space by launching into an outrageous story about a hunting trip gone badly wrong on some faraway planet. He was a lively speaker, adding in lots of hand gestures and sound effects, but Jackie noticed that Rose was gone for several minutes longer than was necessary to see Mickey to the door.  
  
The front door opened and closed, and Rose returned to her seat, looking a little grim. The Doctor cocked an eyebrow at her, silently, to avoid interrupting Jack. Rose responded with a tight-lipped little smile, before giving Jack her full attention.  
  
Jackie filed the moment away. If this kept up, she’d have quite the collection to mull over.  
  
Jack finished his story, leaving them all laughing.  
  
The Doctor recovered quickly, however. “Well,” he said, smiling around the room. “Time we were off. Tea’s been lovely, everyone’s caught up, good time to head out, right? Right.”  
  
Jackie was about to protest when Rose, who’d started to rise, suddenly fell back into her chair.  
  
“Oh!” she exclaimed, surprised, followed by, “I feel . . . _strange_.  
  
The Doctor had his favorite pocket tool — a screwdriver he called it, Jackie remembered, even though he never seemed to use it on screws — out and pointed at Rose in a split second. Jackie couldn’t tell anything from the buzzing noise it made, but the Doctor was suddenly serious.  
  
“How are you feeing?” he asked her, suddenly sounding like a _real_ doctor, all business. “Dizzy?”  
  
“Yeah . . .”  
  
“Nauseous?”  
  
“No.”  
  
“Think you can stand?”  
  
“Maybe . . .”  
  
Rose took the Doctor’s hand and tried to rise, but her knees buckled again.  
  
“What is it, Doctor?” Jackie asked, unable to contain herself any longer.  
  
“Not sure,” he told her absently. “ _I_ wanted to stay on the TARDIS, run a few more tests before we came here . . .”  
  
“Tests? What _kind_ of tests?” Jackie asked, her voice rising in pitch and volume.  
  
The Doctor shot her a dirty look. “Ones that’ll tell me what I need t’ know.”  
  
“I think,” Rose announced deliberately, cutting both of them off, “I might need to lie down.”  
  
“Actually,” Jack said, from where he sat, an odd expression on his face, “I might need to lie down, too.”  



	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose and Jack go to bed -- just not together . . .

After he’d convinced Jackie that nothing was catching, the Doctor managed to send her off to prepare Rose’s room — giving him a chance to give his companions a more thorough looking-over.  
  
Everything _seemed_ normal enough until Jack coughed, and spat out a little puff of golden light.  
  
_That_ was unexpected. All three of them stared at the puff as it hung briefly in the air, and then disintegrated.  
  
“Extra Vortex energy,” the Doctor said with a frown. “Almost looks like what y’ see when a regeneration goes dodgy, sometimes.”  
  
“A what?” Rose asked, and sneezed out a puff of gold herself. “Blimey!” she added, blinking at it. Against her will, she yawned. The dizziness was fading, but it was being replaced by bone-tiredness.  
  
“Somethin’ I really need to tell you about,” he sighed, “but not now. If this is anythin’ like a botched regeneration, you two need rest. Best thing you can do.”  
  
“So,” Jack said, starting to rise, “let’s get back to the TARDIS . . .” His words were decisive, but his tone was blurred and logy. Rest was sounding _very_ good to him all of a sudden.  
  
To his surprise, the Doctor pressed him back down with a hand on his shoulder.  
  
“No — the less you move right now, the better. Too much runnin’ around when you’re like this could fiddle with your neurobiology. I don’t even want to risk you goin’ as far as the TARDIS till I have this sorted out. I think we’re stayin’ here for a bit . . .”  
  
He heard a footstep behind him, and added, without turning around, “. . . if it’s all right with Jackie.”  
  
“’Course it’s all right,” Jackie said, coming to stand protectively by Rose. “She’s my _daughter,_ an’ she still has a room here. Jack can take the spare, and you can have the sofa. Take as long as you need.”  
  
\--  
  
Jack didn't take kindly to being bundled off to the spare bedroom.  
  
"But . . .!" he said, sleepily, for the tenth time, sitting on the narrow guest bed as the Doctor helped him change. While on her way to get Rose put to bed, Jackie had pulled a T-shirt and pair of men's sweat pants out of a drawer and shoved them in the Doctor’s direction.  
  
The Doctor raised an eyebrow at the implications about Jackie’s private life, but it did make better sleeping attire than leather. Jack might have disagreed, if he’d been more awake -- but whatever had struck him and Rose was pulling him under, fast.  
  
"S' better this way,” the Doctor told him. “Remember what the social values are like, this time and place? Jackie wouldn't be thrilled 'bout the three of us on a good day -- which this isn't. So, button it for now and _lie down_."  
  
Unwillingly, Jack lay down on the faded comforter and immediately coughed up another wisp of light.  
  
"See, don't stress yourself," the Doctor told him, covering concern with severity.  
  
Jack caught the concern anyway, and sent out a complex, scrambled burst of feeling ( _Tired/worried/I was dead!/scared/is Rose all right?_ ) in return.  
  
The Doctor winced -- Jack's worked-up emotions were unusually "loud," especially this close -- and patted Jack's shoulder. ( _Rest!/vital signs are good/weird-not-life-threatening/reassurance._ ) Out loud, he said, "I'm gonna go check in on Rose, 'kay?"  
  
( _Grumble/reassured/want Rose!/want us!_ ) Jack told him, already half asleep. "Goddamn twenty-first century," he mumbled out loud.  
  
The Doctor dropped a kiss on Jack’s forehead, and sent a spike of complete agreement running down the link.  
  
Jack grinned at that as he dropped off to sleep.  
  
\--  
  
The Doctor stopped dead in the doorway to Rose’s bedroom. It was rare for a mere color to faze him, but his first impression was of a solid wave of _pink!_ hitting him in the face. He blinked, and focused on the (pink) bed, where Rose was tucked away under a (very pink) comforter. At least, he assumed that huddled lump of covers with a tuft of blonde hair sticking out the end was Rose.  
  
Jackie sat on the edge of the bed. The Doctor padded over to her. She looked up and touched her lips — Rose was out cold, as deeply asleep as Jack.  
  
Nothing short of an earthquake was likely to wake either of them, but the Doctor still tried to be as quiet as possible about scanning Rose one last time with the screwdriver. Jackie glared at the hum it made — no louder than usual, but sounding huge in the silence — but let him work.  
  
Not that he learned anything from it. Just like Jack — strong, normal vital signs, a slightly elevated reading of Vortex energy (quickly fading to background levels; he hoped, especially with Jackie around, that meant everyone was done coughing up chunks of the Vortex), and the only abnormal symptoms being temporary dizziness, muscle weakness, and deep sleep.  
  
That led him to the same conclusion as before: best to let them rest, if that’s what their bodies wanted. Bodies usually knew what was good for them, unlike their owners.  
  
Jackie watched his every move, then raised her eyebrows questioningly.  
  
“As far as I can tell, there’s no danger — they just need rest. C’mon, let’s leave Rose to it.”  
  
He offered her his hand. She looked down at it suspiciously, and then accepted. She looked over her shoulder at Rose as she closed the door behind them, and then the Doctor led her to the living room.  
  
One good thing — while he held her hand, he could know she wasn’t going to be slapping him with it.  



	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor admits it, for once . . .

He thought he was out of luck when they reached the living room — Jackie pulled her hand forcefully out of his and glared, but she didn’t smack him. She just said, “Well . . .?”  
  
He dropped onto the sofa. “Well, what?”  
  
She sat down in the comfy chair and continued to glare, but she was as worried as she was angry, that was clear enough. And she was out of slapping radius. Big bonus.  
  
“What’s _wrong_ with her?” she asked, like he was a complete moron.  
  
He leaned his head back against the sofa, closing his eyes, and suppressed a twinge of anger. “Her” and not “them” . . . but Rose was her child, and she’d only just met Jack today, he had to remember that.  
  
Without raising his head he said, “I don’t know.”  
  
“ _What_?” Jackie practically squeaked.  
  
“I don’t know what’s wrong with them,” he said, levelly. “Yes, Jackie Tyler, I’m admittin’ I don’t know. Prepare for the sky to fall an’ the world t’ end at any moment.” He made no effort to hide the sarcasm in his voice, especially since it seemed like a better safety valve for his frustration than anger. Yelling matches were no good with people sleeping nearby and if he got killed, who would be left to puzzle things out?  
  
“But you _always_ know!” Jackie said.  
  
It was unexpected, and it struck him oddly, hit him in a vulnerable spot he didn’t know he had. _Yeah, I always know — until it’s something like this, something that matters to_ me _, personally . . ._  
  
He sighed. “I have some guesses but that’s all.”  
  
A pause.  
  
“Guesses are better’n nothing,” Jackie said. Also unexpected — and for some reason, it was the first thing she’d ever said that reminded him of Rose. “So?”  
  
_So, we didn’t tell you everything about today . . . still today? — yep, less than 16.7 hours on the internal clock . . . about how Jack_ died _, stone dead, and Rose brought him back,_ there’s _a trick -- and oh, yeah, your daughter had the whole of Time and Space in her head and used it to turn an invading space fleet into dust.  
  
All that power should have done the same to her, but y’see, she was in a deep telepathic linkage with my sentient timeship, and somehow she lived. Now she’s asleep in what looks like regeneration shock, but it’s not -- because she’s human, and even if she _could _regenerate, she_ hasn't _, and our Dead Man Walking’s exactly the same.  
  
And, so far as I know, nothing like this has ever happened before._  
  
How to put that into a context Jackie would understand?  
  
“Today,” he began, “Rose and Jack were exposed to a rare type of radiation . . .”  
  
“Radiation — y’mean, cancer?” Jackie sounded scared.  
  
“No,” he said as reassuringly as he could, rolling his head from side to side in negation. “Not that kind of radiation. Time radiation.” And _there_ was a gross oversimplification of the Vortex he’d never thought he’d utter. “Doesn’t seem to have caused any damage, not like nuclear radiation. Thing is, I don’t know what it’s done. No humans have ever been exposed to it — it’s too rare. I know what it’d do to one of my species, but we’re different.”  
  
“What would it do to you?” Jackie asked, sounding more interested and less scared, at least.  
  
“About what it’s doin’ to them — make me sleep.” _After it killed me and I regenerated, that is._ “I’d be weak an’ confused for while after that, but if I rested, I’d be all right.”  
  
“So they might just sleep it off?” Jackie asked, clearly grasping at hope.  
  
“Might. The important thing is, if they need rest, they should get it. Movin’ ‘em too much too soon can cause things like memory loss — sometimes temporary, if you’re lucky. Permanent, if you’re not.” _At least, assuming the parallel with a Vortex-induced regeneration holds true — but why risk it?_  
  
Pause. “Should we call a doctor?”  
  
“Got one here,” he said, more sharply than he intended, and did his best to bite back his temper as he continued, “Earth doctors haven’t seen anythin’ like this, either. Nothin’ more they could do.”  
  
Another pause. “I’m gonna go check Rose . . .”  
  
“Don’t!” he finally lifted his head and opened his eyes again. Jackie, just risen from her chair, looked startled, but froze. He rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Just let her be. She’s fine. No change.”  
  
“How do _you_ know?”  
  
“I . . .” _. . . have a Class II physical/emotional empathic link with your daughter — natural result of regular, intense physical intimacy, y’know._ Oh, that would earn him the slap of the century. He’d be picking his jawbone up off the ground.  
  
“ . . . get a feeling for these things, when I know people for a while,” he finished, lamely.  
  
“What, like telepathy? Like Mr. Spock?” Jackie asked, suspiciously.  
  
Mr.-Bloody-Spock again — what was it with him, anyway? “Yes, like telepathy. No, not like Mr. Spock.”  
  
Jackie sat back down again, slowly. “So what do we do?” she asked, plaintively.  
  
The Doctor rested his head back against the sofa and closed his eyes again. “Thought that’d be obvious. We wait.”  



	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jackie and the Doctor await further developments . . .

Jackie sat curled up in her chair and divided the time between reading the same sentence over and over in her book, and watching the Doctor through her eyelashes.  
  
He looked half done-in, tireder than she’d ever seen him, with dark smudges under his eyes, but after about half an hour of sitting in silence on the sofa, he’d roused himself with an almost-inaudible groan.  
  
“If they’ve been quiet this long,” he said, when she jumped and looked up at him, wide-eyed, half-expecting some new development, “I don’t think anything’ll change right away. I’m gonna go get a few things.”  
  
Fifteen minutes later (and that was impressive, since she knew how many stairs he’d negotiated), he was back with an armload of books, papers, and gadgets. He dumped the lot on the coffee table and begun fiddling with them immediately. Every now and then, he pulled some additional bits and pieces out of the pockets of his coat -- far more bits and pieces than she ever would have thought could fit in those pockets in the first place.  
  
At the moment, he was riffling through some of the books he’d brought, occasionally stopping on one page or another. She couldn’t recognize any of the languages on the spines or covers. Some of it didn’t even look like words — just overlapping circles.  
  
The Doctor’s brows were drawn down into a straight, frowning line, half hidden by the hair falling down across his forehead. Occasionally he reached up absently to rake it back, but it was a losing battle against gravity. Grown out, his hair was a much lighter color than Jackie would have expected, shading to a medium reddish-brown past the darker roots, with a few subtle streaks of dark blonde towards the ends. It went a long way toward dispelling the grim, monochromatic look he’d originally favored, even though it was the only change in his appearance.  
  
He hadn’t spoken for nearly two hours now.  
  
Once upon a time, Jackie would never have expected to be just sitting there, letting an alien ignore her in her own home while scattering incomprehensible alien things across every flat surface within arms’ reach. Especially while Rose lay sleeping just down the hall, suffering the aftereffects of whatever had happened to her while traveling in the company of said alien. A year and a half ago, she’d have been chasing him out of her flat with any and every means at her disposal.  
  
Now, though, she knew he was working to help Rose, to the best of his ability (whatever that might be), and if he could do anything to help her, he would. After all, he’d tried to send Rose back from this last adventure, back to her Mum — totally against Rose’s own wishes. He wouldn’t have done that if he hadn’t cared, hadn’t _wanted_ to keep Rose safe.  
  
And what had Mum done? Helped bounce Rose right back to him, fast as she could, practically.  
  
She still hadn’t figured out exactly when she and the Doctor had reversed their positions, but they had.  
  
Jackie turned the page of her book, as if a new combination of words might catch her attention. It didn’t work.  
  
She’d always hoped that Rose would have a better life, a different life — which in Jackie’s mind meant A-levels and University, a ticket out of the Powell Estates, and the chance for her daughter to live out her dreams and her heart’s desires. But Rose hadn’t been much of one for education; not that she wasn’t bright enough, not by anybody’s standards. Rather she was too independent, too easily bored, too quick to question authority, and to ignore any answers she didn’t care for.  
  
Then along came Jimmy Stone — that had almost been a disaster and a half, but fortunately Rose made it home without having any permanent consequences to deal with. Goodness knew, Jackie wanted to be a grandmother — but not like that.  
  
After Jimmy, Rose seemed to just be marking time, working in the shops, going out with Mickey, who’d been Rose’s friend for so long, Jackie couldn’t remember a time when they hadn’t been practically joined at the hip. It was an ordinary life, and a safe life, but somehow it just didn’t seem _right_ for Rose.  
  
Until out of nowhere came a blue box, a bunch of animated shop dummies, and a big-eared man who called himself an alien and had the gall to whisk Rose off for a solid year, no word and no warning.  
  
It had been a terrible time and when Rose did make it back, Jackie’d been ready to snap and snarl at anybody and anything she thought would do harm to her restored daughter — especially big-eared aliens. Particularly a big-eared alien who brought danger and chaos and crazy things like big, green baby-faced monsters trailing along in his wake.  
  
Jackie thought it was all the most appalling turn of events she could imagine but Rose thrived on it. She lit up and was herself again — unafraid and happy, running headlong into her future. Rose finally had something she wanted, and wanted it with her whole heart. Jackie could see it clear as day, even if she didn't like it.  
  
So, when Rose returned, sent away by the Doctor she’d follow into Hell and back, desperate to get back to him . . . what choice did a mother have, really?  
  
Jackie closed her book, quietly, and stared at the cover for a moment. To her surprise, she was hungry. She glanced at her wristwatch. Rose and her friends had arrived mid-afternoon, and here it was almost suppertime. No wonder she was hungry — nothing but tea and biscuits hours ago.  
  
She uncurled her legs and set down her book, only to freeze in place when the Doctor looked up from the little hand-held gadget he was currently fiddling with. His sharp, blue eyes glared at her with an unmistakable warning. It would have made Jackie angry, if she hadn’t been able to see how tense and worn he was.  
  
“Just goin’ to the kitchen,” she told him in a soft undertone. “I could use a sandwich. Y’ want one?”  
  
He blinked at her like she’d grown another head, an oddly wary look. He hesitated, and then ducked his head in a curt, silent nod before going right back to his gadget.  
  
Rude it might be, but his single-minded concentration was reassuring at the same time.  
  
\--  
  
Jackie made up a full plate of sandwiches, and brought them into the living room. She wondered briefly if she should have asked whether the Doctor was allergic to anything, him being from another planet and all, but she remembered Rose had said he could basically eat anything a human could. The Doctor didn’t seem to have any reservations. After mumbling some thanks — with that same wary look to him as he did so — he proceeded to absent-mindedly wolf down three sandwiches as if he hadn’t eaten in days.  
  
_Typical,_ she thought, settling down in her chair again with a sandwich of her own. _All wrapped up in what’s ‘important,’ can’t be bothered to look after himself._ Pete had been like that. She hoped Rose had an easier time keeping the Doctor in line.  
  
Half an hour later, Jackie was dozing — but she woke up quickly enough when she heard the Doctor snap to attention and stand.  
  
“Rose is awake,” he told her, and took off for the bedroom like a shot, leaving Jackie to follow.  



	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything looks good, thus far . . .

Jackie wallowed up out of her chair and anxiously followed the Doctor to Rose’s room. When she reached the doorway, she could already hear the low murmur of voices, followed by a low, mechanical _beep!_  
  
When she looked in through the door, she was treated to the wonderful sight of Rose sitting up in bed and watching while the Doctor waved something that looked like a miniature satellite dish around her head. It was one of the gadgets he’d been fiddling with in the living room.  
  
“I thought things like that were supposed to go _ping!_ ” Rose was saying, straight-faced.  
  
“Who’s the Doctor here?” was the response, surface-stern, but with clear affection underneath.  
  
Rose stuck her tongue out at him. Then she caught sight of her mother in the doorway, grinned and gave a little wave of her hand.  
  
Jackie let out a long sigh and smiled back. She wanted to bolt forward and hug Rose, but restrained herself while unknown gadgets were in use. For all she knew, if she jostled the Doctor he'd accidentally disintegrate a wall or something.  
  
One last wave and beep, and the Doctor set the dish-shaped device down on the comforter and pulled a flat metal disc about four inches across from his pocket.  
  
“Hold this,” he told Rose, and wrapped his both of his hands around hers to position the disc properly in her palm.  
  
Jackie couldn’t help frowning slightly. Was it just her imagination, or did the Doctor’s hands stay wrapped around Rose’s for a few seconds longer than _strictly_ necessary?  
  
He dropped his hands from Rose’s, and told her, “Now, give it a good tight squeeze . . .”  
  
Rose did so, and yelped. “It bit me!”  
  
“Micro blood sample. Won’t even leave a mark,” the Doctor told her serenely, reaching over to lift the disc from Rose’s hand.  
  
“Y’ might have warned me!”  
  
“Hurts worse when you’re expectin’ it,” he pointed out, absently, fiddling with the disk for a moment. One side of it lit up with a pattern of colored lights, and he considered it a moment, frowning.  
  
“What’s it say?” Rose asked, craning her neck and trying to see.  
  
“Interestin’. Verrry interestin’ . . .” The Doctor frowned at the disc.  
  
_”What?”_ Rose and Jackie both said at once — Jackie anxiously, Rose with amused annoyance.  
  
“You, Rose Tyler . . . are in perfect health, with absolutely nothin’ out of the ordinary ‘bout you. Congratulations! Feelin’ better?” He gave her one of his wide, manic grins, teeth bright in the dim light of the bedroom.  
  
“You!” Rose told him, laughing out loud and aiming a gentle, back-of-of-the-hand smack at his arm.  
  
Since the examination appeared to be over, Jackie slipped around the Doctor and sat on the bed next to Rose, wrapping her in a grateful maternal hug.  
  
“He said you might just sleep it off,” Jackie told her. “Guess he was right — good thing, too! I was so worried . . .” She couldn’t help sniffling against Rose's hair in relief, and Rose gave her an extra-tight squeeze in return.  
  
They stayed that way for a moment, until Jackie felt Rose twitch slightly, a bare fraction of a second before the Doctor said, “That’s Jack awake. I’ll go see to him.”  
  
\--  
  
After a few minutes of Rose assuring her mother that she felt _fine_ , really, she broke into a deep yawn that had Jackie suddenly worried all over again. This time, however, Rose waved away her mother’s worry.  
  
“S’ different,” she said, confidently. “I’m not dizzy or anythin’. This feels like just bein’ tired.” She snorted, sounding very much herself. “Not like I have any reason for _that_ ,” she said dryly, “after the kind a’ day we had.”  
  
Jackie brushed a strand of blond hair back from Rose’s forehead, noticing absently that it was about time Rose got her roots done.  
  
“Y' sure?” she asked. “I could go get the Doctor . . .”  
  
Rose raised her eyebrows. “Who are you, an’ what’ve you done with my Mum?” she asked, grinning.  
  
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Jackie huffed.  
  
“Well, y’ haven’t always been happy to have him around,” Rose pointed out, logically.  
  
“Who says I’m happy now?” That earned her a giggle from Rose. “ _But_ he’s been looking after you and your friend, just like he should, and he knows what’s what about all this alien nonsense — more'n I do, anyway.” She sighed and shook her head. “Are you hungry? The Doctor and I ate a little bit ago, I could make you a sandwich.”  
  
Rose shook her head and yawned again. “’M not hungry, but I could stand to go back to sleep for a bit longer. Think I’ll take a trip down the hall first, though,” she said, referring to the bathroom.  
  
Jackie helped her stand, but after a little wobbliness she was walking normally, to Jackie's further relief.  
  
Since Rose didn’t seem to need any help, Jackie decided to check up on her other houseguest. She realized she hadn’t really given the handsome Captain much thought once he was out of sight, and felt a little guilty.  
  
As she approached the guest bedroom, she heard voices murmuring, then, very clearly, Jack’s voice saying, “Ow! You sunuva . . .”  
  
Grinning to herself, Jackie could guess what point in the checkup sequence they were at.  
  
“Language,” the Doctor told him, as calmly as he had Rose. “It woulda’ hurt more if you’d been expecting it.”  
  
“Says you,” Jack told him grumpily.  
  
Jackie reached the doorway in time to watch the Doctor lift the disc out of Jack’s hand — and in the process his fingers brushed Jack’s wrist in a way that made Jackie blink. Nothing incredibly obvious, but there was a gentleness to it that was _not_ in Jackie’s experience of bloke-bloke interactions.  
  
_Am I completely misreading things?_ she thought, disconcerted.  
  
Jack heard her, and looked up at the doorway. The Doctor glanced fleetingly in her direction, but was more interested in whatever readings the disc was giving him.  
  
Jack smiled at her, “Hello again, Jackie,” he said, with easy charm. “Sorry for passing out like that.”  
  
She gave him a little “never mind” hand wave as the Doctor announced, “Totally normal — your intramuscular lactic acid levels are a little high, though.”  
  
“Tell me about it,” Jack said, with a wry half-smile leaning his head back on the pillow. “I feel like someone’s been working me over with a baseball bat. Still, only to be expected, since I was . . .”  
  
He faltered, just as the Doctor shot him a glare.  
  
“ . . . unconscious,” Jack finished, easily, as if that was what he’d meant to say all along — though Jackie didn’t believe that for a minute.  
  
“Rose says she’s still sleepy. She’d like to rest some more,” Jackie said, into the momentary pause in conversation. “The offer to stay is still open, if you like.”  
  
“I think that’d be good,” the Doctor said, somewhat unexpectedly. “A good night’s sleep couldn’t hurt anything, an’ I’d be leery of droppin’ these two back into the Vortex right off. The TARDIS is shielded, but even background temporal radiation might be more stress than’d be good right now.”  
  
Jack stretched decoratively, arching his back and reaching his muscular arms above his head, and then winced. “I’m not gonna argue with that. Ow.”  
  
“Well, then, that settles it,” Jackie said, decisively, and went to go round up an extra pillow and blanket to make the Doctor’s stay on the sofa more comfortable.  
  



	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor decides on a potentially risky course of action . . .

The Doctor lay on Jackie Tyler’s sofa and stared up at the dim, distant ceiling. He’d managed to talk Jackie into going to bed, finally, promising to wake her for any unusual developments, so the flat was dark and silent.  
  
Well, in the usual sense, anyway. The Doctor could “hear” Jack and Rose quite clearly, tucked into their respective beds. Both were dozing, but neither was particularly content. Jack was giving off little bursts of loneliness (and an occasional somatic grumble about the rather lumpy guest mattress), while Rose’s emotions were a steady wash of faded, unsettled colors. Rose tended to visual imagery when it came to empathy, rather than semi-verbal impulses like Jack.  
  
Neither one of them was helping the Doctor’s own mood, since he was feeling the separation every bit as keenly.  
  
Ever since Raxacoricofallapatorius, none of them had slept — in the literal sense — alone more than a handful of times, and then never by choice. The regular, intimate contact strengthened and maintained their link, but with the side effect of making it difficult to rest when they _weren’t_ in close physical proximity.  
  
It didn’t help that they’d all had a very unsettling day. Still were having, really; the Doctor kept turning events over and over in his mind: the shock of finding the Daleks reborn, the tragedy of lost lives on Satellite Five, Rose’s astonishing feats with the Time Vortex . . . and now, the question of what the aftereffects of their adventure might be.  
  
He’d spoken truly to Jackie; cancer wasn’t a known side effect of exposure to temporal radiation. A lot of that might have to do with the fact that the usual side effect was, well, death, usually followed by regeneration, since very few individuals who weren’t Time Lords would ever find themselves in that sort of situation. The upshot was, in any case, that one usually ended up with a brand-new body immediately after exposure, rendering any questions of lingering aftereffects to be a moot case.  
  
What would happen to Rose and Jack, though? They seemed genuinely fine — quite healthy in fact — after they’d both woken from their disconcerting first sleep. He’d want to give them both a thorough going-over with the TARDIS medbay’s infinitely more sensitive instruments, though. Still, there was the unhappy wrinkle that he had no idea of what to look for, if anything.  
  
Not to mention whatever aftereffects Jack might experience as a result of temporarily leaving the world of the living, a completely different yet no less worrisome unknown quantity.  
  
The Doctor sighed, carefully keeping any trace of his concern from entering the link. No need to share that sort of thing, especially since there was nothing to be done now but wait and be watchful.  
  
Jack rolled over and his unhappy back muscles twinged enough to rouse him into near wakefulness. His response was “loud” enough to half-wake Rose, who sent a ripple of distraught bruise-purple emotion in sympathetic response.  
  
With a sigh, the Doctor carefully partitioned off his worries, and opened the link from his side, trying to project soothing feelings. Both Rose and Jack responded immediately, reaching out to him and each other. The contact was weak and unsatisfying, just as brushing fingertips with someone was a poor substitute for holding them close.  
  
The goal of getting some extra rest in a safe, non-temporally-active location was not being met. In fact, the Doctor reflected, it was becoming downright stressful.  
  
Still, there might be a simple enough solution at hand.  
  
The Doctor rolled off the sofa, and moving silently with the best of his skill (which was considerable), he drifted down the hallway to stand outside Jackie’s closed bedroom door. That close, his excellent hearing could pick out the sound of her breathing, even through the barrier.  
  
Jackie was well and thoroughly asleep, at last It had taken her a while (this was the Doctor’s third trip to check on her), understandably, but she’d finally dropped off, and was breathing smoothly and evenly.  
  
The Doctor grinned into the darkness, and headed for the spare bedroom, sending an alerting ripple through the link. Both of his companions perked up in response.  
  
Carefully easing open the door, he found Jack wide awake, and raising his upper body stiffly from the mattress. ( _Rose?/leaving?/ow!_ )  
  
( _Rose/staying/ . . . here_ ) With the last, the Doctor reached out to catch Jack’s arm and help ease him up off the bed.  
  
Jack raised an eyebrow — the Doctor could see it clearly in the dim lighting, since his night vision was excellent — and gave back a wave of sly amusement. ( _Dangerous . . ./exciting/Let’s go!_ )  
  
( _?_ ) from Rose, straining to listen in.  
  
( _Heading your way_ ) the Doctor sent at her, and was rewarded with a burst of happy scarlet anticipation.  
  
( _Quietly . . .!_ ) the Doctor warned, as Jack’s stiff, sore muscles tried to lock and make him stumble, but Jack steadied himself with a determined grunt.  
  
The Doctor helped Jack down the hallway for the first few steps, but the Captain’s coordination returned quickly enough. He was walking completely under his own power when the reached Rose’s bedroom, both of them tiptoeing in as complete a silence as they could manage.  
  
Rose was propped up in her bed on one elbow, looking sleepy but expectant. She grinned when they stepped through the door and sent a bright wash of cheerful, pinwheeling colors down the link to greet them.  
  
Jack grinned back, and plopped down on the bed with a delighted ( _Rose!_ ), wrapping her in tight hug.  
  
The Doctor laughed, silently, watching them. ( _Shh/wake Jackie/=death by slap_ ) he commented, teasing them about the “volume” of their reactions.  
  
Jack chuckled out loud, quietly, and Rose sent a bright slash of mock-angry yellow at the Doctor. He deflected it easily, and settled down on the bed. The two of them automatically reached out and pulled him into a three-way hug.  
  
“How long d’you think we’ve got?” Jack whispered. Expressive as the empathic link might be, words were still necessary for conceptual clarity. _How long_ , among other things, was almost impossible to express with emotion alone.  
  
“Couple of hours, at least,” the Doctor whispered back. “You two can get s’ more rest — I don’t need to sleep much, so I can keep watch.”  
  
After a little shuffling, they got themselves comfortably situated on Rose’s relatively narrow mattress: Rose and Jack spooned up together and the Doctor sitting upright on the edge of the bed. It was a very real relief to be back together in such close proximity, as physical and non-physical contact together blended in a soothing combination. Muscles loosened and eyes closed, heading towards deep, healing rest.  
  
_Thought so,_ the Doctor mused, listening to the slow background wash of sleepy colors and impulses coming through the link (currently bright ocean blue, and a repeated mantra of _us/us/us/us_ , respectively). This was exactly what was needed to finish speeding his companions’ recovery along. Even an hour or two would make certain everyone would be fit and ready to go by morning.  
  
Such a strong link led to a certain degree of vulnerability; the Doctor clamped down to avoid passing a shiver of memory along to the others, thinking about that moment of terrible loss in front of the Daleks, when he could no longer hear either of his companions, but there were impressive benefits as well.  
  
The Doctor settled back to wait, basking in the shared comfort. Tomorrow would be soon enough to worry, if there was need for it. This was here, and this was now.  



	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And you knew it had to happen . . .

Jackie woke up out of an uneasy sleep and rolled over to squint blearily at the alarm clock, which had not yet gone off. It was 6:50 am and the flat was dead silent.  
  
She assumed she'd have heard if there were any nighttime emergencies, but there was still no way she was getting back to sleep. She switched off the alarm, grabbed her bathrobe, and went to check up on Rose and the others.  
  
The first room she passed was the spare, and she carefully cracked open the door and looked in.  
  
It was empty, except for a pile of clothes on the floor, and -- she blinked -- an empty pistol holster casually draped over the back of the chair. She’d missed that, before, since she’d been concentrating on the room’s occupants.  
  
With a growing sense of suspicion, Jackie continued to make her way through the flat.  
  
The sofa was empty. No sign of the Doctor.  
  
Jackie had two ideas about what was going on at this point, neither of them comforting.  
  
She reached Rose's bedroom, and, as silently as possible, turned the knob and eased the door open a crack.  
  
What she saw there immediately disproved her first and strongest fear, namely that Rose and her friends had done a runner in the night. However, her second fear was proven beyond all doubt in that instant.  
  
Jackie would never have thought it possible to fit three people into Rose's bed, but somehow they'd managed it.  
  
The Doctor was closest to the door. He'd shed his leather coat and his boots, but was otherwise clothed, sitting propped up against the headboard with his legs stretched out in front of him. Despite his upright pose, he was fast asleep.  
  
Rose was on her side in the middle of the bed, one arm thrown over the Doctor's knees, her cheek pillowed casually on his thigh. His _upper_ thigh. The Doctor's hand rested on her shoulder, an affectionate gesture even in sleep.  
  
Jack lay on his side, spooned up behind Rose, one arm draped over her waist, his hand trailing familiarly over the Doctor's ankles.  
  
All of them were deeply asleep, completely beyond any dissembling with their body language. The little tableau was unashamedly intimate, even though everyone appeared to be at least partially clothed.  
  
Oh, no doubts now about what had been going on in that blue police box, none at all. _Mickey was right, and won't he be sad when he finds out,_ was Jackie's first shocked thought. _Or maybe he knows._ What had he and Rose been talking about last night . . .?  
  
Before she could move, or speak, or make any sound whatsoever, the Doctor suddenly woke. His blue eyes snapped open and his head turned towards her as if he could sense her standing there. His expression was shocking. It was fierce, angry, and protective all at once. Jackie felt as is she'd just woken some large, dangerous predator, asleep in its den.  
  
For the first time, she understood that, just possibly, the Doctor might be frightening in ways completely unrelated to his gift for leading Rose into danger.  
  
The sensation only lasted for a moment, though. The Doctor's expression changed rapidly, going from feral to gobsmacked in an instant as he registered Jackie's presence. He hastily disengaged his legs from the others' trailing limbs and swung around so he was sitting with his feet on the floor -- too little, too late.  
  
His action set off a chain reaction of motion on the bed. Rose muzzily lifted her head and opened her eyes as she felt the Doctor's thigh shifting. She froze as she caught sight of her mother standing in the doorway.  
  
Jack, feeling Rose move, twitched and groaned, lifting his hand from Rose's waist to rub at his still-closed eyes.  
  
"God," he mumbled, "what were we _doing_ last night? I feel like crap . . ." He rolled partially onto his back and dropped his hand, opening his eyes as he did so. ". . . and since when is the bedroom ceiling _pink_?" he rambled on, confused.  
  
He sounded genuinely disconcerted. Under other circumstances, it would have been funny, but Jackie was in no mood to laugh now.  
  
Rose shoved her elbow backwards into Jack's side and he raised his head to look around. His eyes widened and he too froze when he spotted Jackie.  
  
Rose was the first to break the silence. She plastered on a false, slightly crazed smile Jackie remembered from the time she'd caught six-year-old Rose with her hand literally in the cookie jar, and chirped, "Good morning, Mum!" with desperate good cheer. "I'm, um, feelin’ lots better . . ."  
  
The Doctor closed his eyes with the expression of a man preparing to die. Jack flinched and buried his face against Rose's shoulder, then hastily raised his head again when he realized _more_ physical contact with Rose was probably not the best thing right now.  
  
At least none of them tried the, _"It's not what it looks like, really . . ."_ excuse.  
  
"I can see that," Jackie said, her voice a model of controlled sarcasm. "Rose, come help me in the kitchen. _You_ ," her raking gaze took in both men, "wait here. I'll be back to talk with you in a bit."  
  
Rose scrambled to get out of bed, Jack and the Doctor hastily rearranging themselves to give her room. With the comforter thrown back, Jackie could see that everyone was indeed still clothed: Jack in his borrowed shirt and sweatpants, Rose in her camisole and pajama bottoms.  
  
It made things a little less embarrassing for everyone, but not by much.  
  
\----  
  
Rose joined her mother in the hallway, and Jackie steered her to the kitchen by her shoulder. Rose didn't resist. Neither of them spoke.  
  
In the kitchen, Rose broke away from Jackie and leaned against the small kitchen table, tossing her hair back over her shoulders with a familiar flick of her head. She was obviously tense but still composed, ready to face whatever was coming.  
  
She'd changed while she'd been with the Doctor, Jackie thought. This was a new Rose in front of her. Somewhere along the way, she'd finished growing up.  
  
"So," Jackie said, taking the initiative, "Do you know what you're doing?"  
  
She could see Rose bite back a series of smart responses -- _looks that way, doesn't it?_ was the sort of thing teenaged Rose would have thrown back at her mother -- and answered calmly and levelly, "Yeah, I do, Mum."  
  
"You in love?" If Rose was keeping calm, so could she.  
  
Rose nodded. "Yeah, we are." She looked defiant as she spoke, but her voice was even.  
  
"That's what you said with Jimmy," Jackie told her, firing off a deliberate barb.  
  
It struck home. Rose flushed, and her thick, dark eyebrows drew down. "This is nothing like Jimmy," she said, with the first heat in her voice. "He showed me what it's like to _not_ be in love, an' I'm not making that mistake twice."  
  
"You sure about that? They're both older'n you, and they've got that blue box. What's to stop 'em from just takin' off one day, leavin' you in the lurch?" There it was, her own worst fear out in the open.  
  
Rose slammed her fist back against the edge of the table and pushed off, going even pinker, but she didn't start shouting. Instead her voice dropped, shivering with intensity. "That's never gonna happen. We're never leavin' each other, not if we're all still breathin'. Maybe not even then," she added, a little confusingly. Her dark eyes were blazing with a conviction that Jackie knew couldn't be faked. Rose had no doubts, anyway.  
  
She also knew, as clearly as if Rose had told her, there was nothing she, Jackie, could do to change things. All she could do was accept it, or not.  
  
"What about Mickey?" she couldn't help asking.  
  
"What _about_ Mickey?" Rose shot back. "Yeah, it's not fair to him, maybe, but he's seen how it is, for a long time. Longer'n me, even, and there's a laugh. If he wants to hang around and keep hurting himself, I can't stop him. I don't like it -- he's still my friend, far as I'm concerned, but I can't stop lovin' the Doctor and Jack just 'cos of Mickey!" Her voice had risen during the outburst, but she wasn't yelling, even now. No tantrum here, just an angry woman, answering accusations.  
  
Jackie took a deep breath and held it. Then she let it out.  
  
"I want to talk to the blokes," she said, calmly. "Can you get some tea goin' while I'm gone?"  
  
Rose looked as if the rug had been pulled out from under her, no doubt expecting that the argument had been just warming up. She recovered, though her frown remained.  
  
"Yeah," she said, in a good attempt at a normal voice. "I can do that."  
  



	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes, things don't always go as expected . . .

As Jackie approached Rose's bedroom door, she could hear the low murmur of voices. Acting on instinct, she began tiptoeing, until she was just outside the door and could listen in.  
  
Jackie didn't know it, but she was really quite good at such things -- good enough to sneak up on a distracted Time Lord, at any rate.  
  
" . . . "I don't need much sleep,'" Jack was saying, in the unmistakable tones of someone sarcastically quoting someone else. "'I'll keep watch . . .'"  
  
"It was a long day, okay?" the Doctor snapped back in an undertone. "I was tireder'n I thought."  
  
A moment of silence.  
  
"So, what," Jack said, frustrated. "I'm thirty-seven and you're nine hundred, and we're just gonna sit here like a couple of guilty teenagers waiting to get yelled at?"  
  
"Yeah, that's exactly what we're gonna do. This is Rose's family an' Rose's culture and we're not gonna make it any harder for her."  
  
"That _sounds_ like the voice of experience, but why'm I betting it's not?"  
  
"What happened to 'never doubted him, never will?'" the Doctor snapped back.  
  
" _That_ was when we were facing a Dalek invasion fleet, which is a situation where I think you _do_ know what you're talking about," Jack replied, dryly.  
  
"Okay, so tell me, what d' you recommend we do?"  
  
Jack sighed. "God, I dunno," he admitted. "This is the point where I used to start climbing out the window. Being reformed is hard. Guess we wait." A pause, then a chuckle. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you're scared."  
  
"After the way Jackie looked at me? Damn right I'm scared."  
  
"Did she really slap you?" Jack sounded like he was trying not to laugh.  
  
"Yeah, she did. Thought it was gonna leave a scar."  
  
Jack gave in and laughed softly, "She just walked up and slapped a Time Lord. That takes bigger balls than I've got. I can see where Rose gets it."  
  
Jackie, in the hallway, couldn't help smirking just a little.  
  
"We'll be lucky t' even have balls at the end of the day," the Doctor said, sadly.  
  
"Like we were gonna let Rose sleep alone after what we were just through?" Jack sounded genuinely angry at the thought.  
  
"Did you hear me sayin' that? 'Course not. Just wasn't the best way to break the news to Jackie, is all . . ."  
  
Jackie shifted her weight to her other foot, and was betrayed by a faintly creaking floorboard.  
  
From within the bedroom, there was a flurry of creaking bedsprings, and the thump of feet hitting the floor.  
  
With the element of surprise gone, Jackie flung open the door. Jack and the Doctor were both standing there, waiting.  
  
The Doctor, back in his leather coat, had his arms crossed over his chest and was trying to glower in self-defense, not very effectively. The hair nearly falling in his eyes didn't help, but he couldn't push it back with his arms folded.  
  
Jack was standing in a form of military-style parade rest, a posture that radiated a mix of respect and defiance; the effect somewhat ruined by his state of dress. The borrowed t-shirt was distractingly tight across his chest, while the sweats dipped rather low at the waist, even with the drawstring cinched in tightly.  
  
Jackie had to admit Rose had picked herself a handsome pair of men, though right now they really _did_ look like a pair of teenagers, awaiting a chewing-out.  
  
To her own surprise she nearly laughed, but covered it with a throat-clearing instead as she fixed the two of them with a steely glare. She crossed her arms and leaned against the door frame, watching them stew for a moment longer, then . . .  
  
"All right, here's my first question," she said briskly. "Do you love her?"  
  
The Doctor didn't change his expression. "'Course we do," he said firmly, acting as spokesman.  
  
"I want to hear it out if _him_ , too," she replied, indicating Jack with a jerk of her head.  
  
"Yeah, we love her," Jack said, raising his chin a little, going more defiant. "And she loves us," he added  
  
"You don't need to tell me _that_ ," she snapped back. "She told me herself, and even if she hadn't, I saw her fighting tooth an' nail to get back t' the two of you. That was all I needed to know from _her_."  
  
Both men looked somewhat taken aback.  
  
"Second question: will you keep her safe? Keep her from getting hurt?"  
  
The Doctor let out a huff of breath, and uncrossed his arms. "Jackie we've been through this. Life's dangerous sometimes, and y' can't protect someone all the time, no matter how much y' want to . . ."  
  
Jackie cut him off. "I'm not just talking physical danger -- I wouldn't have helped her get back t' you if I didn't think she could decide on her own risks. But there's other ways of getting hurt. I wanna know you'll be there for her."  
  
The Doctor squinted at Jackie as if she'd suddenly become more interesting. He was also beginning to look faintly hopeful.  
  
"If it's within my power to stop it, nothing will hurt her, for the rest of her life," he said, sincerely. He reached up and raked the hair back from his forehead. starting to look more confident. Then he added, with a wolfish smile, "And that means a little more, comin' from me, than it might."  
  
Jack actually laughed. "I'll say," he chimed in, glancing affectionately at the Doctor. Then he looked at Jackie, completely serious again.  
  
"Same for me. We're in this together, and I'll protect her. From anything." Jack broke into a lopsided half-smile, and added as an afterthought, "Though it's just as likely to be _her_ protecting _us_. She's amazing."  
  
"That she is," the Doctor agreed with a sigh.  
  
Jackie watched them both go temporarily a little sappy-faced, and knew for sure Rose had managed a thorough conquest.  
  
She thought for a moment, remembering how close and warm they'd all looked sleeping together. She remembered the Doctor's startling, blue-eyed gaze when she'd first woken him, like he was ready launch himself at any threat coming through that door. And there was the gun holster (empty, but still telling) Jack had so casually left draped over a chair in the guest bedroom.  
  
It was a dangerous life . . . but Rose was living it with people who could be, Jackie was sure, dangerous right back on Rose's behalf. And they loved her daughter, cared about her, every bit as much as Rose cared about them -- _that_ she believed.  
  
It wasn't anything like the life Jackie would have chosen for her, but Rose was her own person now, and when had Rose ever listened to her mum, anyway? Not since she was two, at least.  
  
Jackie sighed. "Well, then," she said, and both Jack and the Doctor snapped back to attention. "Rose'll have tea ready by now. We should move to the kitchen."  
  
They both blinked at her.  
  
"What are you, dim? It's time for breakfast," she said with more acid, pushing away from the doorframe to let them out of the bedroom. "Kitchen, _now_!"  
  
Both of them, suddenly understanding, broke into wide grins. Oh, yes, Rose had picked a lovely set . . .  
  
"Yes, ma'am!"  
  
"Fantastic!"  
  
The followed her obediently, right on her heels.  
  
Jack, clearly emboldened, piped up, "Any chance of some coffee . . . ? Hey!" Judging from the sound of it, he'd been given a warning don't-push-your-luck poke by the Doctor.  
  
"If you make it," Jackie sniffed, as they reached the kitchen door.  
  
Rose was sitting in a worried slump at the kitchen table, and she looked up warily. It was clear she was bracing herself for an explosion of some sort, but her face lit in a wide grin as she saw her two men accompanying her mother. Jack and the Doctor slipped around Jackie as Rose stood to greet them and a rather disconcerting round of hugs and kisses was exchanged, between both blokes as well as between them and Rose.  
  
Disconcerting . . . but heartfelt.  
  
 _Better get used to it,_ Jackie thought, resignedly, and took her seat at the table and watched her daughter's boyfriends -- and _that_ plural'd take getting used to -- automatically start helping Rose with the tea things, finding extra cups and saucers at her direction, and laying out the milk and sugar.  
  
Jackie found herself covering the start of a smile with her hand, watching the Doctor take part in the everyday ritual. _Doesn't do domestic, my arse. He just needs the proper motivation._  
  
Jack, still hoping for coffee, was pointed in the direction of the coffee maker and supplies; Rose moved to help him, but he waved her away, gesturing for her to sit down, while the Doctor watched over Jack's shoulder.  
  
Rose passed her Mum a cup and saucer, then sat down next to her and smiled tentatively. Jackie set down the cup, took Rose's hand and smiled back. "Your mind's made up, then?" she asked, knowing it was a rhetorical question even as she spoke.  
  
"Yeah," Rose said, her smile widening . . . then she glanced towards the kitchen counter, and what she saw made her point surreptitiously for Jackie to look in that direction, just as the Doctor exclaimed, "Not like _that . . ._!"  
  
"Hey! I'm doin' fine here! Leave off!"  
  
Jackie had to admit, the sight of the Doctor and Jack trying to figure out the coffee maker (with no help from the two giggling women seated at the table, watching) was one of the funnier things she'd seen at breakfast in a very long time.  
  
It was _different,_ . . . but maybe that wasn't a bad thing after all.  
  



	9. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jackie seems to be taking things awfully well -- _how_ well, really?

Jackie insisted on seeing them off at the TARDIS, and made them a bag of sandwiches to take along. The Doctor might protest that they had _plenty_ of food, thanks, but Jackie had standards to keep up.  
  
The Doctor attempted to slip into the TARDIS and leave the farewells to the humans, but Jackie ruthlessly caught his arm and dragged him over for a hug. She ignored his appalled expression, moved on to hug a smiling (well, smirking) Jack and ended with a long, heartfelt embrace for Rose.  
  
Letting go of her daughter was hard, but Jackie made herself do it.  
  
“Now, don’t be a stranger,” she reminded Rose. “Give a call now and then, and you know you can always come here with your washing.”  
  
“’Course, Mum,” Rose said, smiling. The Doctor rolled his eyes and twitched a little to be gone; out of the corner of her eye, Jackie saw Jack elbow him.  
  
“And you’ll be _sure_ to tell me when you set a date . . .?”  
  
Still smiling, Rose frowned and gave a half-laugh, confused. “But Mum, we won’t decide where we’re going till we’re in the Vortex, at least . . .”  
  
“Oh, I don’t mean the date you’re _going_ to. I mean the date for the _wedding_ ,” Jackie told her patiently.  
  
In the utter silence that followed, the distant noise of traffic seemed very loud indeed.  



End file.
